


ancient light (the last echoes)

by perihelion (mattratat)



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: College AU, Gen, the roadtrip from hell, vanitaszine 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:13:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27313159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattratat/pseuds/perihelion
Summary: Vanitas put an address into phone before he left the parking garage, windows rolled down and music blasting from his speakers. He only had a vague idea of where he was going and, really, that was enough for now. He was tired of being told what to do and how to do it- now, it was simply time tobe.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	ancient light (the last echoes)

**Author's Note:**

> written for the vanitas zine last november! (https://twitter.com/VanitasZine)

It was the way the light filled his apartment that angered him the most, the way it started at the bottom and hid from the corners of the room, desperately clinging to the blinds and blinding him with the reflection of glass frames. It was pathetic. Sad. But sad wasn’t the right word. Sad, he told himself, was an emotion he didn’t feel. 

There were a lot of things he didn’t feel. He didn’t need to; didn’t want to. Some emotions were simply pointless. Avoidable, if he tried hard enough. And try he did. 

It was so,  _ so _ aggravating. 

No, annoying. 

So he left. 

He packed his car, an old, beat up and weathered car, and simply left. It should have been a more monumental occasion, maybe, but it simply felt like any other Tuesday to him. There were no goodbyes to be had, after all, and it wasn’t like he was driving aimlessly. It was a planned absence, an internship that had been willing to take him after he’d allowed the application date to pass. But he still should have felt the spontaneity, the jitteriness that came with change. But mostly he just felt irritated. 

Vanitas put an address into phone before he left the parking garage, windows rolled down and music blasting from his speakers. He only had a vague idea of where he was going and, really, that was enough for now. He was tired of being told what to do and how to do it- now, it was simply time to  _ be. _

The first stop, though, was Ventus’ house. 

Well, the house that Ventus rented with seven other randoms because, Christ, rent was expensive. The only reason Vanitas had gotten away with living on his own for so long was his grandfather’s inheritance, and even that would probably be gone by the end of the summer. He’d deal with it then. 

He was pointedly  _ not _ thinking about his pending financial crisis now, as he pulled up in front of what was basically an overpriced shack, honking his horn twice as he threw the hazards on, unwilling to try and parallel park on the mess of a college street. 

He pulled his phone, sending Ventus a message to hurry his ass up. They had a long drive ahead of them and, frankly, he didn’t want to waste another minute in this town. 

His GPS beeped at him, yelling at him to make a U-turn and get on the road. He honked the horn again. 

The door flung open, Ventus practically falling out of the house with a sandwich hanging out of his mouth and a suitcase dragging down the stairs behind him as he bolted towards the car. It was a sight worthy of an eye roll as Ventus made his way across the street to the car, grinning like a madman.

He threw his bag into the trunk, shouting something back at the house that Vanitas couldn’t really hear over the radio. He fought the urge to honk the horn again. 

Ventus pulled the car door open, falling into his seat with all the grace of a diseased cat. “Onward!”

Vanitas slammed the gas pedal. 

“So you’re still doing art, huh?” Ventus said, about an hour into the drive. 

Vanitas’ hand twitched with the urge to turn up the radio and bury the chance for smalltalk. But he sighed. “Duh.” 

In Ventus’s defense, Vanitas didn’t exactly seem like the type to get a degree in Fine Arts. In Ventus’ defense, Vanitas had never even meant to be an art student. If he were being facetious, he would have told you that his only real aspiration was to be an arsonist. His eighth grade art teacher had made a comment that he should try that in the school’s upcoming art show as a commentary on the modern art scene and he was sold. 

He’d been disqualified that year, of course, after the fire department had been called. It was too late, though. The spark he started that day grew into a roaring wildfire, consuming him (and his quickly deteriorating grades) in the process. Now, it had become an internship in the middle of absolute nowhere, also known as Keyblade Graveyard National Park. With Ventus, of all people, a film major that Vanitas the misfortune of knowing since their freshman year. Ventus really had no business being in an artist in residency program, but whatever floated his boat, Vanitas didn’t care. He was just glad to have someone else fronting the gas bill. And he supposed he was glad to have a new opportunity to create art, too. 

Because life, Vanitas had decided at a young age, was a terrible thing. 

But when his hands created, when his breath was taken away by his own work, when he lost his thoughts to the maniac frenzy of paint and clay and fire… some of the wretchedness went away. 

And, of course, Vanitas liked to set his sculptures and the occasional painting on fire. 

“That’s cool! I thought I saw one of your pieces hanging up in Axel’s,” Ventus continued, “When did you decide to quit setting everything on fire after it was finished?” 

“I’m experimenting. I’ll set it on fire eventually,” he answered, fingers tensing on the wheel. 

Ventus hummed in response. “I hope you give him a heads up first. He’ll probably stop giving you free coffee then.” 

Vanitas turned up the radio. 

  
  


The second day was about as uneventful as the first. Ventus had insisted on paying for breakfast, but breakfast had just been two energy drinks and a shitty bag of gas station donuts. 

“These are foul,” Vanitas had cringed as he took a bite of one that was probably supposed to be chocolate. 

“They’re not  _ that _ bad,” Ventus had insisted. Vanitas’ response was to take his eyes off the road to stare straight into the empty green ones staring at him from the passenger seat, rolled his window down, and throw the donut out of it, letting the highway take it. 

Ventus had turned the radio up to drown out his smug look. 

As far as drives went, this one wasn’t the worst. Sure, it was boring. He wasn’t sure if he would have preferred to be driving alone or not. He wouldn’t have to listen to Ventus’ music every few hours, but there was something about having the passenger seat occupied that made the vast desert they traveled far less empty. Not that it really mattered one way or another. He wasn’t a stranger to loneliness, after all. 

Should it have been more interesting? He didn’t know. He was just driving; even the small, dog-eared towns that had been scattered on the farthermost outskirts of Scala had been replaced by the dirt and cactus. 

Time was weird out here in the desert, he realized. An hour would pass in the blink of an eye, but the next five minutes would take a thousand years. And throughout it all, there was cacti and the occasional vulture. 

Watching the sun start to sink in the sky was almost poetic as he fought off Ventus’ increasing attempts at small talk. 

Time passed, and it passed, and it passed some more, disappearing to the tune of punk rock music like some boring, drawn out, never ending music video. The wind rushed through his dark hair, the setting sun beating down on the dashboard as Ventus’s not entirely terrible rock playlist slowly took over the car’s speakers. Over halfway there, maybe close to two thirds of the way, and still a good hour to go before they reached the hotel they were staying at for the night. It was a miracle they had even managed to find one in the middle of the desert, but they weren’t the only ones to ever trek across the country. 

“Are you excited?” Ventus asked. Vanitas could see him out of the corner of his eye, window still rolled down, elbow propped against it and chin resting in his palm. The sun was setting behind him, giving him an angelic glow that made Vanitas’ fingers twitch for oils. 

“Excited?” He repeated, tone mocking. 

“About the residency,” Ventus clarified, waving his free hand in a motion that could only be read as  _ duh.  _

“No,” Vanitas admitted. “Nature isn’t that inspiring.” 

Ventus was looking at him, but Vanitas kept his eyes dead on the road. “Then why did you apply?” 

“What do you care?” he snapped. 

“I’m nosy,” Ventus answered, shrugging. 

Vanitas didn’t have anything to say to that. 

“The sunset looks like a fire,” Ventus commented when it became apparent that Vanitas wasn’t going to talk to him on his own volition. “It would be a good establishing shot for a cowboy movie or something.” 

Vanitas snorted. “A cowboy movie?” 

“They’re fun,” Ventus defended himself. “Can’t you just picture a cowboy out there on his horse, a silhouette against the glimmering sun?”

Vanitas shook his head. “I can picture the sun going down and the coyotes coming after us before we get to the hotel.” 

Ventus hummed in response. “Well, how are we on gas?” 

Vanitas glanced at the dashboard. “Oh dear. E.” 

“What?!” Ventus practically jumped out of his seat, whipping his stupidly spiky head to stare at him.

Really, it wasn’t Vanitas’ fault for bursting into laughter at the whole ordeal. Taunting, mocking laughter at the, admittedly valid, worry. “Relax. We’re at half a tank.” 

“That wasn’t funny,” Ventus huffed. Vanitas glanced at him out of the corner of his eye to see him smiling. 

“Sure it’s not,” he answered airily, training his eyes back on the road.

  
  


Naturally, Flood sputtered just minutes from their stop, throwing them back and forth several times before it calmed down, acting as though nothing had happened.

“What the…?” Ventus yawned. Vanitas hadn’t even realized that he had been asleep in the first place until now. 

And as he looked at the stars, he thought about how close they all appeared despite being thousands upon thousands of lightyears apart. He remembered his third grade teacher explaining that the nearest star to them, after the sun, could already be gone, but they wouldn’t even know for at least eight years. What a lonely existence it must be. So close and yet so far from everything- from anything. The aching loneliness of seeing others on the horizon, but never being able to reach them. The void that craved attention, companionship,  _ friendship- _

But there was only solitude to be found. Looking up at these bright, lonely stars, he felt understood for the first time in his life. It took his breath away, surprising himself as he felt a lump forming in his throat. 

The anger. The sadness. The loneliness of it all. He felt every drop of it. It crept into his bones, flowed through his veins with the might of a raging river. His hands twitched with the need to grab a paintbrush, to let the rage flow through him and into the world, to- 

“Vanitas? Everything okay?” Ventus called from the car, probably still wondering why they’d pulled over in the first place. Vanitas hadn’t even looked to see what was causing the engine to sputter. 

Vanitas, silent and angry, got back in the car. 

  
  


The next time Flood sputtered was on the third day and Vanitas figured it wasn’t a big deal. After all, nothing had been wrong the last time. 

“Hey!” A voice said, startling Vanitas so bad that he nearly smacked his head on the bottom of the car. He hadn’t even heard the approach of another car. Couldn’t they tell he was busy? 

In this vein of wanting to be left the hell alone, he snapped, “What?” 

The stranger’s voice was light and airy, reminding Vanitas of an angel’s. But this angel was clearly more of the doomsday prophet kind, because he said, “Do you know your car is on fire?” 

This time, Vanitas did smack his head on the bottom of the car, swearing up a storm as he scrambled out from under it. “Do you not realize I’m a little bus-  _ WHAT?” _

“Yeah?” The voice answered, and Vanitas blinked against the harsh light of the sun silhouetting the figure standing over him, barely registering brown hair and freckled skin as his mind tried to process what had been said. “Like, the engine I think?” 

Vanitas jumped to his feet, head turning towards the hood comically slowly. 

Well, yeah. Those sure were flames. 

“Ventus!” He yelled, “Grab the water!” 

Ventus, who was leaning against the trunk and was so enamoured with his phone that he hadn’t even noticed that the  _ car was on fucking fire _ , finally looked up. He looked confused to see a stranger standing with Vanitas, but jumped to action when Vanitas started to shout a number of expletives at him. 

“I have some in my car! I’ll help!” the stranger said, jumping before running out of Vanitas’ sight. 

At the same time, Ventus was ransacking the back of the car where they had stored all of their supplies for the journey. “We don’t have any more water bottles!” 

Vanitas, who had thrown open the opposite car door without even realizing it, grabbed the nearest can, knowing damn well it wasn’t water, and ran around to the front of the car. 

“Here goes nothing,” he said to no one in particular as he ripped back the tab. Ventus, apparently abandoning the search himself, appeared at his side, watching with wide eyes as Vanitas dumped the contents onto the fire. 

The heat flared out at them, searing Vanitas’ arms as he jumped back, hissing and coughing as he inhaled a large mouthful of smoke. It tasted like oil and carbonation. 

“What the-” the stranger frantically called as he ran up to Vanitas pouring energy drinks into the engine. “Dude! Not! Helping!” 

“We don’t have any water!” Vanitas shouted back. 

It would have been more helpful if the fire wasn’t growing bigger while he tried to defend his methods. 

“Fine!” he screamed, “What’s your plan?” 

He held out a jug. “Here. I always keep some in my car when I have a long drive.” 

Vanitas was torn between admitting that, yeah, maybe carrying water in the desert was a good idea after all and wanting to ring the stranger’s neck. He settled on grabbing the jug and throwing it onto the engine. 

The three of them stood in a half circle and watched, impatiently, as the fire sputtered out, leaving the engine dripping. 

“Now what do we do?” Ventus finally asked, after they’d all made as much awkward eye contact as they could while waiting for someone else to speak up. 

Vanitas huffed. “Try to start it?” 

“That seems like a bad idea.” 

“What, do you have something better in mind!?” 

“I mean-” 

“I’ll call a tow truck,” the stranger cut in, phone already out in his hand. 

“That’s not necessary,” Vanitas spat. 

The stranger raised an eyebrow at him and something unpleasant bubbled in the back of Vanitas’ throat. “It’s not? Because it doesn’t look like this thing is going anywhere anytime soon.” 

“Let him call the truck,” Ven added, uselessly. Vanitas flipped him off. 

“Fine,” he muttered. “We’ll call a tow truck.” 

“I can take you guys into town, too, if you want,” Mr. Angel-face offered. 

Vanitas wanted to tell him to fuck off, but Ventus was already saying, “That would be great! Thank you!” 

The way that Ventus always seemed to speak in exclamations really did grate on his nerves sometimes. 

“Who are you, anyways?” he spat, staring into the stupid blue eyes of the jackass. 

“Nice to meet you,” the stranger snorted, holding out a hand that Vanitas promptly ignored. “I’m Sora.” 

  
  


Sora, as it turned out, lived in the area and was perfectly happy with letting Vanitas and Ventus crash at his place while Flood was getting repaired. Which would, miraculously, only take a day. He was unbearably cheerful, a genuine smile plastered to his lips constantly, a bright light that Vanitas wanted to violently extinguished. If it weren’t for the fact that Sora’s car was a stick shift, he might have felt more inclined to throw him out of the car and drive them into town himself.

As it was, Vanitas didn’t particularly know how to drive stick. He was pretty sure Ven didn’t, either. 

When they’d reached the apartment, they’d been introduced to Sora’s roommates, Riku and Kairi. Both had been entirely unfazed with Sora bringing home two stray art students, which made Vanitas instantly distrustful of them. 

He wished Flood would get fixed faster. Just waiting around was making his skin crawl. He wished the apartment had more windows; he felt trapped in the cramped space with so many people. 

Ventus, of course, was right at home. He was chatting with the trio as if they were lifelong friends. Vanitas moved to the kitchen to put space between them, but he could still hear the sounds of laughter coming from the living room. 

He wondered if the flash of anger that curled in his throat was jealousy. But what was there to be jealous of? Ventus, with his ability to befriend anyone? No, that wasn’t it. Sora, who seemed to exude kindness and compassion? Definitely not. There was nothing spectacular about Riku and Kairi, either, for that matter. So why was he so angry? 

Because they all seemed to belong together in there? That they meant something to each other and that, in the short amount of time that they’d been there, Ventus had managed to worm his way into their hearts? 

Vanitas wanted to burn the whole apartment complex to the ground. 

The thought had barely left his mind before Sora entered the kitchen, smiling. As if there was anything to smile about. 

“Hey! Whatcha up to?” Sora asked. 

Vanitas, who was skilled in the art of deflection, waved his cell phone lazily. “Checking to see if the repair company called.” 

He hoped they would soon. He was spending far more money than he wanted to think about just to get this fucking thing expeidited. 

“Anything?” Sora asked. 

Vanitas shook his head. 

“Well, in that case, do you want to come back into the living room? We can put on a movie and or pizza or something 

“I’m good,” Vanitas snapped in response. The thought of playing buddy-buddy with the entire group made him want to throw up. 

“Are you there isn’t anything I can do?” Sora asked. Vanitas wondered if there was anything of substance behind his bright blue eyes, or if it was just television static and the occasional cheerful thought. 

“I don’t want your help,” Vanitas snapped. It was rude. He knew it was rude. He didn’t care. 

“I know this is probably out of line, considering we just met,” Sora said, sounding unconcerned as he spread peanut butter on a cracker, “You’d probably be less miserable if you gave anything else a chance.” 

Vanitas opened his mouth, but he didn’t have anything to say to that. 

Sora popped the cracker in his mouth, tossing the knife into the sink. The sound of it clanging against the metal sides was impossibly loud, ringing in Vanitas’ ears like a drum. 

He said nothing as Sora left.

  
  


In the end, it took only a few hours for the car to get fixed. Sora offered to let them stay the night and they could set out in the morning, but Vanitas refused. The kitchen conversation felt like a lump in his stomach, uncomfortable and entirely unwelcome. He wanted to get back on the road as soon as possible, to put as much distance between him and these people as he possibly could. 

They finally reached the park an hour or two after sunset. The stars were just starting to come out. It was an unceremonious occasion, save for the excited yelp from Ventus when they passed the entry sign. 

“Pull over!” Ventus insisted. 

They got out of the car and Vanitas wondered if he should feel excited. After all, they’d finally made it. Despite everything, they were here. 

Something in his chest felt empty. When he looked up, the stars were far away. They ached, or maybe that was him. Was it true, what they said about them? That the stars he saw now were long gone echoes of suns that once burned as bright as the one that would rise with the dawn? 

Despite everything, they were there. Despite everything, they were gone.

He wondered what the empty space that they left behind was like. 

“It’s beautiful,” Ventus breathed.

Ventus was standing right next to him, but there was a mile between them. 

Vanitas, for once, said nothing. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to my dad for catching his car on fire 20 some years ago, and thus giving me the inspo for that scene. that car is gone but never forgotten 
> 
> thanks for reading!!


End file.
